Month: June 2017

So I had no luck with the GP. There’s a long wait for a psychiatrist, and strict criteria and as I’m being treated in NZ, I won’t get treated here. I understand the principle but my meds need reviewing and the GP won’t do it and I’m left struggling. I even had to get a nurse in NZ to send a copy of my current prescription to the GP before she wrote any out. As if I’d lie about the meds I’m on! I know my meds better than most GPs thank you very much!

I took the hurdle really badly and ended up brooding in my bed again, feeling dejected.

It was a struggle and Mum has been trying to get me to the hairdresser but frequently cancelling because I can’t face it. It’s her way of trying to make me feel better about myself and getting me out, which is actually really thoughtful. I decided to go against my desire to languish in bed and do it. I felt so anxious I nearly cried in the place! Silly really. I’ve always loved getting my hair done and been confident. But now I don’t go out and I’m so fat, I’ve not bothered. The hairdresser was lovely and really put me at ease. And I’m glad I had it cut. It looks a lot better.

When I woke up this morning, I didn’t want to go out again (mum had said she wanted to take me shopping). My body was like lead. Getting ready was really hard work and I didn’t think I could face it. But I decided to push through hoping I’d feel better for it.

I got a lot of really nice things – which I didn’t expect! We walked around a bit and then stopped for coffee. For the first time in months I felt less self conscious and a bit more normal.

I also bought my son a really cute ‘Cars’ jacket from the Disney store (which admittedly I did tear up a bit).

I’m so glad I came back here. For a while it looked like nothing was going to change and perhaps it had all been for nothing. But gradually I’m getting a bit more positive. And it’s so nice to be cared for. My mum makes lovely home cooked dinners, and has done my laundry for me! I’m an overgrown kid again!

But it’s giving me the respite I need to clear my mind and try to think about my future. I’m still very sad and going back to NZ seems to be an overwhelming task; setting up all over again. But if I can continue to get myself in a better space I might start to focus on the positives. I feel like I have my family behind me, which really helps and I’ve still got friends to catch up with.

It’s not going well. So far I’ve barely been out of bed. The depression feels two pronged. I’m down anyway, I’m grieving my marriage, and I’m conscious that I have to start from scratch back in NZ. I feel such an aching sadness and an oppressive sense of overwhelming anxiety at my future.

Life just feels impossible at the moment.

My dad has just tried to talk to me about my plans and I know he’s concerned that I’m not going out or doing anything. I do try and make plans in my head, but in reality I can’t face the days, the people, the decisions and the sense of not belonging.

I’m not doing my children any service by being here and being the same as I was in NZ. This trip needs to be worth our separation. I’m scared of going back and being the same. I can’t let them down.

And yet, I just feel no joy. No purpose. No sense of identity.

When I go back to NZ, I’ll be living on welfare until I get a job. The prospect alone is depressing.

How has my life tumbled into such a chaotic mess?

I’m going to see if I can find a GP here to refer me to a psychiatrist. Maybe I need some different medication. Maybe I need some hope that something can change.

I’ve spent the day in bed. I’m in this horrible fog of missing my children terribly, grieving my marriage and feeling uncertain about my future. It’s all so over whelming so staying in bed seems like the easiest option. But I feel guilty because I know I should be doing more. It’s a cycle where I feel constantly miserable and can’t seem to find any solace.

I think my parents are struggling to understand this part of me. They’ve never seen how bad depression is and they probably think I’m being lazy and not even trying. I feel that way!

I’m not sure what the answers are. I’m not sure how to find any sort of peace. I should really catch up with some old friends, but I’m ashamed of what I’ve become.

My children miss me (although S has told me that they enjoy having his mother there) and I resent her for being in my place. Her place is unquestionably part of the family. Unlike me.

I just continue to feel really alone and I’m not sure anyone gets it. I keep remembering when S and I were here last time, so much pressure was on us. In retrospect I should have embraced my time in the UK, rather than seeing it as a punishment. I’ve made so many mistakes. Too many to begin to unravel.

Strangely the bad memories from my past aren’t playing a part. I’m still stuck in the recent past and present. Perhaps my brain has triggered a defence mechanism. Either way I’m grateful. I don’t need any of my past haunting me now.

So I’ve come all this way and inevitably depression has caught up with me and daily life is a struggle.

I’m really enjoying my time here. In this unusually hot weather we went to Bournemouth beach yesterday

I did break down and cry when we arrived because I knew how much my kids would have loved it and I miss them terribly.

S has been scathing in text messages, so I limit my communication with him. I’m still trying to reconcile that he’s not the same person. Of course in this weather there were all couples and families and I’ll never have that again. It’s deeply upsetting, but when I think about how S regards me now, it’s obvious it won’t ever go back. I just need to process that. I need to let go and I need to stop letting S upset me.

I’ve been talking to the kids everyday and it helps to see them. But I wish they were here. In fact I’d go so far to say that if my children were here, I’m not sure we’d return to NZ. So much has happened and I’m not looking forward to starting over again. But I feel more confident about starting over here in a place I know. Maybe it’s easier saying that because I’m on holiday here.

I can still feel the depression is around me. But I’m pushing against it. I know my parents will never really understand it. But I’m trying to be more present and more involved. Doesn’t help that Dad makes quite a few inferences to my weight. I knew it’d be an issue, so I’ve faced it by cracking jokes. But really it hurts. I don’t want to be this big.

Otherwise my parents are being great. And I’m enjoying being here in ‘daughter’ capacity.

So of course I’ve found my wedding photos, little momentos from S, old pictures of when we first met. I expected to break down in a heap. I haven’t. Not yet anyway. I guess I knew it was inevitable. I think the thing that stops me from feeling it so strongly is that I know he wouldn’t feel anything. He is so unattached he wouldn’t recognise himself, nor relate any memories. Another timely reminder that this is definitely over and there’s no going back. He isn’t the same person in the pictures. He doesn’t care like he used to. Already he’s blamed me for our son being behind at school over FaceTime, when I was trying to find a solution. He seems to like making me feel useless, digging out my failings and insecurities.

Today is the first day I’ve felt normal since getting back. My headache has slowly retreated, and I feel less foggy and confused. It’s been unbelievably hot here! And the long, light evenings are really strange to me! I’m still sleeping a lot and I think my medication regime is still trying to settle. But at least I feel human. It doesn’t usually take me so long to recover from a flight. I suspect my weight has been quite a contributing factor to that. That and all the stress I was under in NZ. I feel like I can actually breathe properly here. I feel less oppressed, there are less expectations and I’m able to rest, or have the company of my parents as I need. Currently I don’t feel like a burden to them. It is truly nice to feel like I’m home.

I’m even showering regularly!

Tomorrow Dad wants to drive to Reading to visit the cemetery where his parents are buried – its Father’s Day here tomorrow. I was very close to my Nan, so I’m glad to go. I have no anxiety about going out, in fact I think I’ll enjoy the road trip. It’s supposed to be another sunny day.

I’m not sure what I’ll be doing for the rest of the week, or if I’ll continue to feel relaxed (I really hope so) so I’m just taking each day as it comes. I know I had some major concerns and regrets on the way, but now I know this is the best thing I could have done.

I’m absolutely shattered, so I’ll keep this brief. I felt like the day would never end, I’ve been in a sitting position for almost 50 hours. I ache, I feel sick and I’m finally horizontal!

I really regretted the flight and thought I’d made a terrible mistake but my parents have greeted me with open arms. My old room has been set up beautifully and Mum had a huge basket of a variety of hair products, body stuff and bath treats. I have felt truly cared about for the first time in ages.

It’s also been really warm here and the long, light evening seems weird! I have no idea on times and days, I think it’ll take me a while to get adjusted and get my medication regime back on track.

I have amazed myself today. Well, the last few days! I didn’t move from my comfort spot, but I have sought care from familiarity and faced the anxiety provoking travel, far away from my days in bed. I survived it and I did it alone.

I’m in Dubai now. It’s hot, and I’m sweaty and miserable. I couldn’t get comfy on the flight (I’ve not flown since I got so fat) and the service was pretty abysmal. I’ve flown Emirates back in the 90s and didn’t like it then. But it was part of a special deal.

Surprisingly I don’t have flu symptoms yet, long haul and flu go together for me.

I’ve just had feelings of dread and regret in the air. I had a long wait in Auckland, and just watched the new series of House of Cards, but I was still in New Zealand so the gravity didn’t really dawn on me. On the flight I knew by each minute I was going further and further from my children. The regret was just as oppressive and added to my claustrophobia. Especially as everyone else had kids on board. The reality also that there will be no more family vacations struck me pretty hard.

So perhaps my intentions were right, reality is already kicking my arse. My marriage is over and there will be no more family holidays. No more S and I managing the kids. I kept having the urge to cry but fought it off. There will be lots of tears when I land. If I ever land.

I used to love flying. It’s just watching movies and having a waitress! But now it feels painfully long and uncomfortable. My weight is probably a big contributor to that.

You’d think in times of stress I’d lose weight, but instead I get fatter, and I’m not moving much either. The last few weeks have been spent mostly in bed, so the airport transfers alone are making me walk more than I do in a week.

My anxiety has been really bad. I’ve been shaking and bordering panic attacks. I was a seasoned traveller. I’ve been all over the globe and I used to storm through airports. Now I’m shaking, sweating, my chest is tight from panic. I feel more alone than I ever have. Everything has fallen apart. I don’t know who I am anymore. I’m ashamed of what I’ve become. I see more clearly what S sees when he looks at me and I can understand his disgust. I’m nothing like the girl he married. I’m pretty revolting as it goes, and my passion for life is dead.

I owe my children more than this. When did I become so selfish? When did I let myself go so much? When did I stop living?

I hate myself, I hate what I’ve become. My children deserve so much more.

I hope that I can find my way back to myself. If nothing changes after this UK trip, after all of this discomfort and hellish travel, I don’t know what I’ll do.

I miss my children and the unconditional love they give me. But I need to be better for them.